least
likely that Francis would do anything of the kind. Look, Petsy is
better; she has drunk her cream and rusks quite up. I think it was only
the heat."

He gave a little good-humoured giggle of falsetto laughter.

"I wish, Marion," he said, "that you could manage to take your mind off
your dog for a moment and attend to me. And I must really ask you not to
give your Petsy any more cream, or she will certainly be sick."

Lady Ashbridge gave a little sigh.

"All gone, Petsy," she said.

"I am glad it has all gone," said he, "and we will hope it won't return.
But about Michael now!"

Lady Ashbridge pulled herself together.

"Yes, poor Michael!" she said. "He is coming to-night, is he not? But
just now you were speaking of Francis, and the fear of his wanting to be
a dentist!"

"Well, I am now speaking of Michael's wanting to be a musician. Of
course that is utterly out of the question. If, as he says, he has sent
in his resignation, he will just have to beg them to cancel it. Michael
seems not to have the slightest idea of the duties which his birth and
position entail on him. Unfitted for the life he now leads . . . waste
of time. . . . Instead he proposes to go to Baireuth in August, and then
to settle down in London to study!"

Lady Ashbridge recollected the almanac.

"That will be in September, then," she said. "I do not think I was ever
in London in September. I did not know that anybody was."

"The point, my dear, is not how or where you have been accustomed to
spend your Septembers," said her husband. "What we are talking about
is--"

"Yes, dear, I know quite well what we are talking about," said she. "We
are talking about Michael not studying music all September."

Lord Ashbridge got up and began walking across the terrace opposite the
tea-table with his elbows stuck out and his feet lifted rather high.

"Michael doesn't seem to realise that he is not Tom or Dick or Harry,"
said he. "Music, indeed! I'm musical myself; all we Combers are musical.
But Michael is my only son, and it really distresses me to see how
little sense he has of his responsibilities. Amusements are all very
well; it is not that I want to cut him off his amusements, but when it
comes to a career--"

Lady Ashbridge was surreptitiously engaged in pouring out a little more
cream for Petsy, and her husband, turning rather sooner than she had
expected, caught her in the act.

"Do not give Petsy any more cream," he said, with